


Lost/Found

by shealwaysreads (onereader)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Travel, soft and warm, sometimes you also find someone to be with, sometimes you leave home and find a place to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onereader/pseuds/shealwaysreads
Summary: Draco finds unexpected treasures on his travels
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 94





	Lost/Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jeldenil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeldenil/gifts).



> For Jeldenil who prompted me on Tumblr for my Hozier prompt game, this fic was inspired by Like Real People Do ❤️

“I won’t ask,” he had said, and was met with a hesitant nod and the flicker of green eyes cataloguing his expression, looking for honesty.

Potter had been gone for years now, nobody knew where, and he had clearly not expected to be found. He wasn’t hiding though, Draco knew that much. He wasn’t running away. Maybe it was hibernation, finding somewhere warm and safe to sleep through the winter of grief. Maybe it was the simple movement of a creature following the trail of nurture and sustenance, leaving behind the lands that bore no fruit to fill its belly. Migration.

He hadn’t expected an answer, but then Potter said, “I won't either.” So they both stood listening to the roaring whisper of ocean over sand and grit and the history between them washing away in the quiet.

They were far from home. Well, Draco was. He, at least, was still holding onto the title of traveller rather than admitting to the slowly fraying tether between his heart and the anchor of England. Potter looked like this was where his drifting roots had settled. He looked comfortable.

Draco hadn’t come looking for him. Potter was as much a surprise to find as the tiny white jasmine flowers that had clung to the edge of a well in southern Spain, or the fragment of lapis that had bloomed to blue life when he’d dropped his water bottle hiking in the Hindu Kush. He was an unexpected treasure, a little piece of life that had found a space to grow.

That was a month ago now, and Draco still hadn’t left the little white-washed cottage he’d planned to spend a week in. The sun-baked earth and blue expanse of sea and sky had settled into his bones, and Potter had lingered with his quiet and his sunlit eyes and his casual ease.

Draco rarely cooked, not with the heat of high summer pressing down. But he could assemble. Salty white cheese that crumbled onto roughly chopped cucumbers, fat red tomatoes almost bursting with juice, bread from the little bakery in the village that he just tore with his hands. Potter liked to dip his bread into a puddle of green olive oil; it made his lips shine. Draco liked to sip local wine and watch Potter eat.

He never did ask, and nor did Potter. But they talked; they talked enough to pass hours, enough to slip into something like intimacy. Not friendship, but something near to it, teetering on the edge.

It was Potter who moved closer first. Close enough that Draco could smell the salt on him from his pre-dinner dip in the sea, close enough that Potter’s whispered question was a sensation as much as a sound. But it was Draco who swayed closer still, when his own nod of assent brought them to a kiss that tasted of a shared supper and sunlight.


End file.
